It Goes On
by Fic's Sly Lover
Summary: Summary: Even though Fate have given upon him by doing this to him, he wouldn't. And will never give up on himself. He was going to fight this battle against Fate and will win by outliving this disease. No matter what. Tom Riddle wasn't about to lose for the first time in his life, even if it was against Fate. AU
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**It goes on**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Summary: Even though Fate have given upon him by doing this to him, he wouldn't. And will never give up on himself. He was going to fight this battle against Fate and will win by outliving this disease. No matter what. Tom Riddle wasn't about to lose for the first time in his life, even if it was against Fate. AU**

 **Prologue**

It was weird.

This life. Though that was just his opinion.

I have been told that the first time it was detected was when I was just a tiny piece of flesh, with toothpicks for bones, large azure coloured eyes and a thin face with the cheek bones slightly protruding, no baby fat whatsoever.

Well at least he wasn't _chubby_.

God forbid if that ever happened.

Now back to the topic, so the Doctors didn't know what it was that ailed me. What it was that would make his tiny body, shot up from its lying position and curl on itself, trying to breath, make the pain in his _bones_ away.

God, the pain.

As if the very marrow of his bones was on fire, and had a life of their own which was being wrenched out of them.

They said it was a new and unknown kind of Cancer.

It had been years, all kinds of chemotherapy, immunotherapy, stem cell transplant and surgery with a new radiations system, everything had been tried. Nothing seems to work. They couldn't understand what to do with it anymore.

But the symptoms were even more baffling. "It well _seemed_ terminal, I think" that's what that Jack Doctor was telling Emily, another Doctor. Since he couldn't stomach anything that... was.. well edible. In short he couldn't eat and drink anything and had been living on liquid nutrients injected into his blood streams.

And as was expected of a cancer patient he was pale, and his body temperature was abit cooler than normal _or natural_. Always a few degrees lesser.

And even though he hadn't gained any, he looked healthy enough. _Enough_ being the keyword. He looked fit, kind of. But maybe that would have been because of the weight of humongous books about different subjects that he had to take to his own hospital room to read, and the to and fro journey must have helped as well.

All in all and I quote, " _He is such a polite young man," "Handsome too, he will be a heartbreaker when he is finally of age," "His dark hair just compliments his pretty skin and brings out his beautiful eyes" "Sometimes he seems so fragile"._

Insert a fangirl sigh here.

Well he really appreciated the compliments (though he wouldn't tell them) but really _beautiful? Pretty? FRAGILE?_ Like seriously, he is a _GUY,_ someone who have a *****!

Ahem.

Well that years ago so never mind.

Anyway, so its been years and no cause or cure had been found for my illness. Its been called the _'Leech'_ Cancer for now, until they can find more about it. Since it doesn't let most of the nutrients work and leaves just the necessary amount his body needs.

"Patient 477," He looked up and saw an unknown Doctor; obviously not caring and was just running an errand, "your new Doctor is here. He is in his office, confirming last second documents before leaving for the Board meeting, so if you wouldn't mind he wanted to meet you before that and asked me to guide you there." was said in a clear and crisp voice, giving no impression of an emotion whatsoever.

Absentmindedly nodding he followed him. Well it was just normal procedure, many of his Doctors had either died working on him or had stopped for no reason. Well obviously there was a reason but no one needed to know that.

Some things are better left unknown.

"He is the youngest Doctor as of yet to have ever completed the Oncologist studies. He specializes in all the three categories or better known as _primary clinical disciplines_ that are medical, surgical and radiation. Though he mostly likes to do surgeries and is quite famous for..." he continued droning on.

He just hoped his new Doctor would be abit more capable than his lasts. Well they were not bad, but they couldn't be exactly called, in his opinion, dependable.

"... and he specifically asked for your case directly after transferring here..."

He stopped. Asked for him? Why? Who was he? What did he want? How... on never mind that one. His was a special case. Famous too. Affectionately called _The reluctant killer._

Yes, they are idiots. Instead of naming the disease, they should work on it. Well if he lived that long, he was planning on working on it himself. He continued walking again.

So the new Doctor asked for his case. Well we shall see as to what happens. Either he was too courageous or an even bigger idiot, since his case was known for its rate of unsuccessful research. Because he knew.

This wasn't normal Cancer.

He could and still can feel it.

It's like something is blocked inside of him, while at the same time is spread in his whole body. In every cell of his. And that was causing all this.

But well no one will believe _that._

"... aha! Here we are." And with that the door was opened and he was ushered inside.

Inside was a man wearing a lab coat, his back was towards us, bending on top of his desk shuffling some papers and muttering.

From what he could see, the man was fairly young, had shaggy black hair, and had a thin figure. Most likely an office person.

"Hullo Doctor!," greeted the unknown Doctor "I have done as you requested." There was reluctant respect with something else in his voice. He was a fairly aged man, married, with three kids; two daughters and one son. Mm. Was most likely thinking of the first daughter for the new Doctor.

"Ah Edward! Thank you so much! I have been so busy with all the moving and the shifting of the files and the books stuff.. its kind of freaking me out," and he picked some books which were apparently some references and turned towards us.

His surprise at seeing the new Doctor's face was only the rising of his left eyebrow. Well he was younger than he had thought. Probably around twenty-three? Four? And his hair was even more shaggy up close. Skin with a light tan. Lightly pink lips. And _pretty_ eyes.

Pretty emerald eyes.

Pretty?

"Ah. Hello. You must be my patient. One Mr. Tom Riddle, if I'm not mistaken?" he introduced while trying to juggle the monstrous reference books in his hands, and a light smile on his face.

His voice wasn't bad either.

...

 _What?_

Ahem.

Well at least he called him by his name, and not the allocated number. Like most do.

"And who's asking?"

"Oh, pardon me. Forgot," he gave him a sheepish smile, turned and placed the books back on the table, and turned back, holding out a hand, "That will be your new Doctor, Mr. Riddle, Harry Potter. At your service." Again a smile.

"Well as you know, Tom Riddle." And with that he raised his hand and closed his cooler, paler and long fingered hand around a tan, warm and abit smaller one.

 _And screamed in pain._

 _ **...**_

 **A/N: I have lots of ideas for lots of stories, but this one just came to mind when I was watching a movie where the main character died and I got all emotional ;P and well here we are. Born and given on this very day.** **And so I just wanted to kill a main character... just kidding... probably ;)**

 **Hope you like it and feel what I try to convey in this story. A tiny warning;** _ **this story will be a**_ _ **short one. The maximum it will be is ten chapters. And well minimum... can't say exactly ;P**_

 **And I would love to hear from you.**

 **Hope to see you guys soon,**

 **Yours Truly.**

 **Sly.**

 **...**


	2. Chapter: 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **It Goes On**

 **Chapter: 2**

Waking up has always been an easy task for Tom.

It had always been like an instant awareness of all his senses all at once. One of the reason contributing to this could have been the always prick-like pain present all over his body all the time... but Tom preferred to think he had high awareness of his surroundings from the moment he wakes up..

But that was not the case this time.

In fact it seemed this time was an exclusive exception to all those other time, since the first thing Tom aware of was the needle-prick pain concentrated highly towards his upper left side.

His left hand, left arm, left shoulder. The left side of his head... it was starting to give him a pounding headache...

Unable to bear with it anymore, he snapped open his eyes and his vision was filled with...

Pretty emeralds...

Pretty emeralds that were inches away from his own azure...

A wince was the only indication of a particular stab of pain piercing his left temple. But that seemed to be enough indications for the Emeralds to move back... making the light from the window behind to pierce his eyes; making him quickly close his eyes, and which only helped in increasing the headache.

"I see you are finally awake Mr. Riddle." The voice was entirely too cheerful.

"Ughh.." was the only answer he deign to give.

Tom tried with very little success to sit and lean against the head of the bed, all while from the corner of his eyes he could see the Doctor watching him. It made Tom bristle silently, he could use some help but the man just kept on watching.

Finally in a position of sitting he liked, Tom relaxed and finally turned his full attention to his newly appointed Doctor, "Care to explain what made me land in bed?" voice hoarse.

His head was pounding and he couldn't remember what he did last. His throat was scratchy; as if he had screamed bloody murder, and his tongue felt like a bag of sand.

"Nothing to worry over, you just collapsed from a sudden attack of your illness, and have been unconscious for a week and... three hours." Came the still cheerful answer.

" _What?"_

Deep breadth, Tom.

"Ahem. I mean, a week?" the disbelief was clear "What is the date?"

His doctor was still not looking at him after he had turned away from him at the start, mumbling to himself, while shuffling some paper into order on Tom's bed-side table.

"Well?" he was losing his patience, and the headache wasn't helping at all.

"Oh?" The Doctor jerked to look at Tom, "Oh! Sorry! Its just that I was researching this sudden attack, because it was more sudden and out of your schedule of attacks... and while you were asleep I was doing some experiments-" that made Tom even more uncomfortable "- and its fascinating, I was right to come here myself rather than just a visit... I think I'm almost near it... it might be that.. but no then that would react with it.. but then it reacts to mine..."and he was back to the papers.

"Uh.. Doctor?" Was this guy nuts?

"Oh? _Me_ r- _Gosh_! I'm sorry, yes, you see after you met with me there came a sudden attack from your illness and you collapsed. And you have been unconscious since then. I have been trying different things but nothing seemed to work and you remained asleep, and its seems you have enough recovery to continue living."

Recovery his ass! His body was aching, what had the man been doing?

"And well there is some good news for you Mr. Riddle," he messed up his hair, making it even more shaggy, "I wish I could give you the complete news but its just that one thing I need to work with and then everything would be solved. This last week has been most resourceful.." and the babbling begins again.

Tom sighed. If this was the case, they were in for a long ride.

"And the news is?" his patience was almost at breaking point.

"Ah! Yes! You see, Mr. Riddle within the next week or a couple I would be able to solve the fundamentals of your illness!" and with a clap he grabbed his notes and begin to leave throwing a, "Good day.", over his shoulder at Tom.

A stunned and speechless Tom.

He said _what?!_

How did he solve something that had taken more experienced and senior doctors months and years and even then had failed?! Was the man mental or something?

Tom tried to follow after the man but the moment he tried to get up, he started swaying and almost fell but luckily grabbed the foot of the bed and steadied himself and settled himself on the bed. Mind whirling mile a minute.

A head poked over the door-frame, "Oh, and no movement from that bed Mr. Riddle, and that's a direct order from your doctor." And with that the shaggy head disappeared again.

 **...**

Over the course of the next two weeks, Tom scarcely caught any sight of his doctor. Though he had cancelled all the medicines and tablets Tom had been on for years, (the outrage of the doctors had been shocking). And was always, _always_ there when Tom woke up.

Be it from an attack or just sleep, the man was always present, and every morning Tom would wake up to the sight of pretty emeralds inches away from his face. Sometimes Tom would pretend to be asleep and try to see through a slight crack between his eyelids, but man almost always knew when Tom was no more dead to the world.

Though Tom did catch the man a few time, He had woken up from an attack, and the prick-pain had been less as compared to usual, so he had slowly opening his eyes and saw the man writing furiously in his notes, while his left was hovering over Tom's own. The man would jump up, jerk, or his eyes would widen all of a sudden as if he realised something, and was always there on Tom's left side. Tom had relinquished his left bed-side table three days into the first week.

During the daytime, the man would be holed up in his office, and the office itself wasn't fairing much better, notes and sticky notes were everywhere. With mugs of tea and coffee littering the right corner. Once the doctor went in, it would be hours until he came out, or as according to what Tom heard, a simple attack on Tom was enough to immediately have him out of his office.

Tom tried to gather some information over the man from the staff as well as the patients, because it seems that even though he was Tom's personal doctor, he was often called for life-saving surgeries. And he was nice to everyone.

Apparently the man was twenty-two, younger than Tom had predicted. Had gained his degree and Masters that year, was single and also filthy rich, though that couldn't be determined from his appearance. It was the work of one of the female staff, they were scary. That's why Tom always remained on their good side.

And one of the most interesting titbit had been that he didn't let anyone enter his office aside from Tom, saying that it contained his research. So even though Tom was allowed in, he didn't understand a single thing.

What was _Mughspi's Law of sealing and unsealing?_

Or _Accidental or Intentional..._ and some words would be blur to Tom no matter how much he concentrated.

So it was a relief and also a sense of foreboding with which Tom headed toward his doctor's office , it had been a week and five days and he had been informed that his presence in the doctor's office was required.

Just as he raised his hand to knock, the door suddenly opened up and he got his first proper look at his Doctor's face, in weeks. The bloke's hair were shaggier than ever and slightly filled with dust, his eyes had purple circles under them and he seemed to have lost a lot of weight in these two weeks.

"Ah! Mr. Riddle, you are finally here," This man was always too cheerful, or that could have been because of those lemon candies he always had at his desk. "Come, come inside." And with that Tom was ushered into an office that was almost puking with pages and note and plastic coffee cups.

He was led and made to sit in one of the only two extra chairs aside from the desk, the doctor placed some biscuits on the table and went to grab those candies, and came to sit in the other side, opposite to Tom.

"Good morning, Mr. Riddle. I hope you had a pleasant night?" he grabbed a chocolate chip biscuit out of the bunch and started munching on it.

"Morning to you too, and yes it was better than a few days ago." Tom leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and folded his hands over it, "You asked for me? And you do know that I can't handle solid food?" He sneered at his doctor.

"Oh, I know. But I wanted to test a theory of mine, so please grab one of these pretties. Or would you like Lemon Sherbets?" the man was as insufferable as ever.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, he bent forward and grabbed one of the biscuits and quickly bit into it, already searching the door to the washroom.

And the man was bent forward, looking intensely at Tom, he was almost vibrating in anticipation.

And within a minute Tom had the whole biscuit, and was waiting for the gagging and pain... but nothing came and the flavour remained in his mouth. The biscuits were delicious.

"Would you like another? Though you shouldn't have more than five, since more than that and I can't guarantee anything." Came the reply from the obnoxious man, who was happily sucking on a lemon candy.

Tom hesitated, but did reach out to the one he had never had and quickly started munching. He had almost given up on ever being able to eat solid food...

After he had his promised five biscuits, Tom turned to the man, "What have you done? You cancelled all my medication, and haven't been doing any kind of therapy. And now this! No one had succeeded before, I have always regurgitated anything I have eaten." At this the man quickly straightened himself and turned his full attention to Tom.

At least Tom hoped so, since the man regularly glance at some note here there.

"I'm going to tell you something important Mr. Riddle, and it can not leave this office. Is that clear?" the man asked with a surprising amount of seriousness, though that too was belied by the amusement and excitement sparkling in those pretty emeralds.

Tom nodded.

"You, , are a wizard."

 **...**

 **A/N: Muhahahahah! :3 Sorry for the long absence, I had been busy with giving tests and all that for my Major and then for the Masters. But don't worry I have been writing both my stories, just not in my laptop, my dairy is going crazy with all the ideas I have been putting into it. So don't worry it's not a writer's block, just laziness and college work killing me ;P**

 **I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, Undead's will be coming out soon too, (as soon as I put order to the events occurring in Harry's past) ':/**

 **Hope to see you guys soon,**

 **Yours Truly,**

 **Sly.**

 **...**


	3. Chapter: 3

**Disclaimer: Own nothing.**

 **It Goes On  
**

 **Chapter: 3**

 **(Important A/N at the end.)**

 ** _..._**

Tom decided that if he had any kind of reservation or hesitation with calling his doctor insane, mental, or maybe even psychotic, well they were very successfully dashed by that same doctor himself.

Hence Tom decided that his doctor was completely and officially senile, even if in young age.

Because see, he had been called to his doctor's office the day before yesterday, and he had gone thinking that maybe that man might have found something new about his disease (though Tom was loath to admit but the man _was_ the only one who had succeeded so far) but the man had started talking rubbish.

He had called him a ruddy _wizard!_

And who was then promptly called on for a surgery of an old woman who had lung cancer, but before leaving he had handed Tom some kind of coarse paper... " _Parchment" The man had called it..._ on which he had written some instructions.

One of them being; to clear his mind and to call on that _something_ every night before sleeping... (and the 'something' was double underlined)

On reading this first sentence Tom had looked at his doctor, who was preparing for surgery, with incredulity and scepticism clear on his features. But his doctor had just given him a grin and went about preparing.

But just before he been about to closed the door behind him, he turned to Tom and said, _"Don't tell me you don't know what that means? I'm sure even with your state you can feel that there is something else in there , in your blood; that wants to get out."_ And then he was gone.

Tom had sat there for the better part of an hour, mind sometimes just whirling, not making any sense or cursing his doctor to hell and back. 'Back' because he had somehow made it possible for Tom to have solid food.

Tom was staring at a sticky note while his mind did its thing. When suddenly with a jolt he realised he could read the note. _Read_ it.. not like those half blurred half clear notes like before. And finally he made himself comprehend what he was reading.

It was one of those notes that he had glimpsed upon previous visits to the office. And finally he got the complete sentence. _Accidental or Intentional Magic..._

And his mind recalled what his doctor had told him... and with a willpower he didn't know he had, he put it all to the back of his head to bother his doctor when he found him again.

And with nothing else to do, Tom went back to his designated room. Where he found books which had the same type of talk as what that man had been spouting. Though he wouldn't admit but Tom had gone still when he had seen the titles of the various books on his left side-table, and had quickly looked around as if expecting someone to catch him. As if he was some kind of a criminal for having those books.

But after a while when there had been no action, he had sat at the edge of his bed and cautiously picked the top most book, ' _All about the Wizarding World'-Seine Watch._

The name itself had done nothing to abate Tom's reservations. But nonetheless he started reading, the innate curiosity and love of knowledge made him plunge through the literature which was against all that he had ever known.

So apparently there was a whole bloody _Magical Society..._ A magical world full of things like Elves, Dragons, Unicorns, Goblins, _Vampires_ even... he never knew how close those fiction books were to the truth...

Fiction books written by _Muggles..._ Ohhh.. He loved that word, nevermind that he was introduced to it only a couple hours ago and might have been like them (ignorant of his heritage) if not for his doctor.

Tom was sitting crossed legged on his bed, halfway through his second and a really thick book _'Introduction to Magic' –Van Meire._ It was an interesting read, written by a Magic researcher, it answered many of Tom's questions, while giving birth to a thousand more.

It was another hour later when he was reaching for the third book on his left-bedside table without looking up from the other's last page, that he noticed something unusual. He couldn't find the book there, only air met Tom's searching fingers.

Angered for having to stop his reading, and knowing there were two more books left, looked to his left when he met the emerald eyes of his doctor, which were almost flooded with amusement.

"Looking for this?" He waved the books in his hands.

Ah. So they were there.

...

Ah his butt! The guy was toying with him. As if he would let him. And with that Tom closed the book in his lap and stood to face his doctor. And raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, clearly showing his displeasure.

A chuckle was his only answer.

And then the doctor turned away, taking the books with him. Tom wanted to strangle him right there and then. But then there would be no one to do something about his illness... no one to tell him about the newly found (for him, at least) Wizarding World.

"Come." Was the doctor's order. And even though Tom was never one for submission, but since he truly depended (oh, how he hated that) on that insufferable man, thus would comply. But Go _-Merlin_ how he wanted to rip those pretty emerald eyes, that always seem to laugh at him.

And as expected they went to the Doctor's office, who went to his personal quarters (sometimes fitted for some doctors, who spent nights at the hospital) leaving Tom to stand there awkwardly.

But fortunately he came out quickly with some other books along with those he had previously, and motioned Tom to those extra chairs again. (The main table was an unusable den of papers)

"You need to read these first before going the ones I gave you before. This way you will understand everything better. Understand?" He settled the book beside the still there biscuits, out of which one he picked up and started nibbling on it, while staring at Tom.

"Also you need to clear sometime out of your schedule. We are going to spend alot of time learning some things which you should have started leaning a long time ago." He told Tom without even looking away from him for even a second. "But oh well! Later is better than never." He suddenly said cheerily and with a clap got up, picked the books, shoved them into Tom's hands and quickly ushered the young man out of his office.

Tom looked down at the topmost book of the stack: ' _Basic Magical Theory',_ though there was -suspiciously enough- no author's name written on it. And with a deep sigh, a look at the now closed office door, started back to his room.

 **...**

And so started the sessions. (or classes in Tom's words)

Tom had been drilled with theory for a month. His doctor would come at weird intervals and ask him random questions and his opinion on the way the Wizarding World. And Tom scared that this was some kind of test would answer him honestly and with all the brutality and hostility an intelligent mind feels towards stupid mistakes. (mistakes of the Wizarding World, by the Wizarding folks..)

And though Tom didn't show it but all this was making him extremely pleased. He finally felt like he could be cured, not because of the Magicals' capabilities but rather because of Magic, no matter how cliché it sounded. Because in Tom's opinion if you mix Magic and Doctor Potter, _something_ at least was bound to happen to him. Be it for his better or worse.

Ah. Tom didn't know whether he's a pessimist or optimist.

Well with Doctor Potter as one's personal doctor it is safe to be both, Tom mused.

So, for a month Tom would sit in those extra chairs in his doctor's office either devouring books on Magical Theory or something else. -And most of the authors, Tom now knows are extremely famous in their respective fields. Though there would be always one unnamed book in their midst.- While his doctor would either be working on his bundles and bundles of papers or performing some kind of magic.

The latter would cause Tom to stop whatever he was reading to avidly look at the man and the impossible feats he would do. And would then promptly start pestering him with questions regarding the Magic performed. And then they would branch out to other topics, which would usually be interrupted when his doctor was called for an emergency, or his doctor would say that Tom should store that question in _"his dairy"_ (with an infuriating smirk on his face).

Which would successfully shut Tom up. He would never lower himself as to fall for that trap. Because it wasn't a dairy but a _journal_. Everything or anything that caught Tom's fascination, Tom would store it in his journal. Any questions left unanswered or some hypothesis he thought up himself in response were all there. Clipping, sketches, diagrams, notes all there.

So when his doctor said to write it in his _journal,_ it meant that Tom will be able to answer it himself with some study. Which Tom preferred better than being given a ready answer.

During that month Tom felt changes in himself too. He theorised that it must be the exposure to Magic on a regular basis. Because now Tom didn't feel as much pain as he felt in the beginning. Also being near his doctor started becoming easier. Though he still sometimes - _"You fainted, Tom" –_ _collapses_ , it was for shorter periods and far and in between.

And finally after two and a half month from their initial meeting, Tom Riddle started Magical classes. Potter would sit with him and ask questions about the theory for that session and then would show him with his wand. (Potter had already been pestered about wands) Who would then give his wand to Tom to perform and practise _Magic._

The first time Tom held the wand, he felt the pain recede completely and a warmth filled him up and when he swished it, he felt a tingly sensation in his hand that he had never had before. Hence the wand was one of the things that he held with a reverence he only felt for Magic. Tom could feel it now, that _something_ Potter had told him about. And when he did Magic, he would see the results, which would fill him with a weird feeling.

And so gradually and slowing, one session a week became two and two became three.

But the three won't become four somehow.

"But I'm saying I feel better then ever. I'm sure I could handle it four times a week. And it's _Magic,_ it won't harm me or anything." Tom said it for the fourth (the irony) time to his not listening doctor.

His doctor, who was still shuffling through his bundles of pages on top the main table, did not respond. Which irked Tom even further, he strode forward and grabbed the doctor's shoulder and forcefully turned him around.

But his rant was stopped by the look of immense pain on the green-eyed man's face. Which was swiftly removed. Tom snatched his hand as if burned while taking a step back.

"And I'm telling you once again that I am not making it four times a week. And that's final." His doctor said as if nothing had happened earlier.

He found the pages he had been searching for (finally) and took them along with his coat. As he reached his office door, he stopped and while looking at the foot of the door frame, "Just trust me." muttered.

Tom wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been overly conscious of his doctor.

Trust him, he says.

 **...**

 **A/N: I'm extremely sorry for the long wait. I just finished my college this year (yay!) and had to consequently give tests for some universities for further studies. Hence I refrained from writing but I still jotted down ideas in my** ** _diary_** **;P Also we are entering the climax of the story XD am super excited..**

 **Anyway I'm back to writing it somehow, I was missing you guys' response/reactions to my mind's drabble ;D So I hope you enjoyed the chapter.**

 **As for the** **important A/N:** **It's an explanation to Tom's personality. My Tom is a determined person, who is willing to survive hell to live. He is not as hell bent on causing trouble as cannon Tom because my Tom was admitted at an early age into the hospital. Where he got sufficient care and attention, no matter what kind it was. He was taken care of by the nurses and the hospital itself as he was a rare case and they wanted to solve it. He is still a kind of genius as he studied and tried to research his illness himself, nevermind the fact that he found nothing. Hence the determination and no homicidal behaviour.**

 **I just wanted to clear this up a bit, because my Tom is a bit different from cannon. Though I tried to keep young Tom's personality as cannon as possible with all the changes. But you have got to admit that environment and social interaction does change people.**

 **That's all folks. For now ;)**

 **Hope to see you guys soon,**

 **Sly.**


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